


Hell School Yasogami

by silvardepoch



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, BDSM, Caning, Exhibitionism, Foot Fetish, M/M, Omorashi, Sounding, Spanking, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 18:10:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1559426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvardepoch/pseuds/silvardepoch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Corporal punishment is reinstated and Yasogami High is chosen as a pilot project.  As the program wears on, Souji and his friends' respectable facades crumble and their dark sides and darker desires are unearthed...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preamble

**Author's Note:**

> A gift series for a friend.

Act on Reinstatement of Corporal Punishment

Act No. 73 of December 26, 2011

Table of Contents

Chapter I General Provisions (Articles 1 to 5)  
Chapter II Basic Policy, etc (Articles 6 and 7)  
Chapter III Basic Measures (Articles 8 to 19)  
Supplementary Provisions

Chapter I General Provisions

Purpose

Article 1: In consideration of the report by the Japanese Bureau of Youth Reformation for the reparation of the damage to our nation's moral character, this Act sets forth the Reinstatement of Corporal Punishment, while at the same time, for the comprehensive and integrated promotion of Youth Reformation, this Act stipulates provisions for the formulation of the Basic Policy and other necessary particulars pertaining to the promotion of Youth Reformation, aimed at contributing to the security and enhancement of peoples' lives as citizens.

*

"So what do you think this is about?" Yosuke asked over the chatter.

Souji looked over at Yosuke, who had adopted his usual slouched posture on the metal folding chair, arms crossed behind his head. He probably wasn't the only student with that disposition, considering the entire school had been brought into the gymnasium for the announcement.

Souji looked around and saw Kou and Daisuke sitting to the side. Daisuke was similarly casual; Kou was more ramrod, eyes fixed on the empty podium on the elevated platform in the front of the gym.

The din of conversation ended when the gym doors on the wall directly opposite of the podium opened. Students turned in unison to see who had entered.

The man walking up the corridor toward the podium was tall, pale with sharpened features and slicked black hair. He smiled at any student who made eye contact with him, a wide, thin, gash-like smile that split across his face, lips parted just slightly to reveal teeth. Upon reaching the podium, he set a leather-bound book in front of him, the microphone capturing the heavy thud and sending it echoing through the gymnasium speakers.

He opened his book and perused its contents, heavy-lidded eyes cast down as he turned the pages with black gloved-hands.

No student said a word.

The man looked back up and that smile was on his face once more. "Good afternoon, students of Yasogami High School."

He received no response.

"I'm sure you all are wondering why you have been removed from your classrooms and are eager to return to your studies, so I shall keep this short."

He folded his gloved hands in front of him. "Yasogami High School has the unique privilege of being volunteered out of our over five thousand high schools to participate in a pilot study for potential national reform in our schools. We have brought in volunteers for this experiment. They will be identified by a black armband with a white circle in the center. Any student who wishes to further volunteer in this experiment may inquire with any person with said black armband. They will begin with observation and note-taking. Otherwise, you may all carry about your days as you usually would."

The man looked over at the principal before casting his gaze back upon the students.

"You are dismissed."

As the noise started up again and the students began getting out of their seats, Souji turned to speak to Yosuke. But Yosuke was already up and stretching, getting ready to leave with the other students.

As they exited the gymnasium together, they joined up with Kanji for the short walk back to their classrooms. Kanji and Yosuke were saying something to each other, and may have once asked Souji something, but Souji's attention wasn't on them.

Standing by one of the doors was a young man not much older than any of the students. He wore the same uniform as the other Yasogami High School students, pared down to a long-sleeved dress shirt rolled up to the elbows. He had a clipboard clasped in black-gloved hands and would occasionally write something down as students passed by. He looked up at Souji for just one brief moment, his eyes traveling up just barely perceptibly before turning his gaze back down to his paper.

Souji and Yosuke said their goodbyes to Kanji when they reached their class and took their seats. That day's topic would cover the events of the fifteenth year of the Taisho Era. Souji opened his book while they waited and looked up at the clock on the wall.

That young man had been wearing a black armband with a white circle on it. And he hadn't been looking at Souji; he had been looking at Kanji.

*

"You probably shouldn't sleep in class," Souji said to Yosuke as they had lunch the next day.

Yosuke looked at Souji with an annoyed look, likely because he had just unwrapped his sandwich and now had to delay satisfaction with a response. "I don't do it a lot. And besides, I was up all night doing catch up on reading because you wanted me to come over to hang out, and then I had to walk all the way back home!" He took a chomp out of his sandwich. "That damn Teddie… after he replaces my bike, I'm never letting him on it again. "

"Well, just be careful. That guy they put in our class kept looking over at you and taking notes."

Yosuke popped the last bite of sandwich in his mouth and crinkled up the plastic wrap, speaking while he chewed. "Will you relax, partner? It's been three days since they showed up and nothing has happened. No-thing. All they do is stand around looking creepy and writing whatever on their clipboards."

Souji looked down at his bento. "Still, it makes me nervous. What do you think they're writing about us?"

"Who said it was anything about us? Don't be vain, partner."

The clock rang and they stood up to return to class, Souji taking an extra minute to pack up his uneaten lunch.

As they walked down the stairs leading from the roof, they passed by another student with an armband. He bowed his head at them in greeting, but as Souji turned the corner, he could see the student tick a box off on his sheet of paper.

*

"You're worried too?"

Kou nodded, focus no longer—if it ever was—on the ducks swimming by the banks of the river. He tossed a cube of bread in, anyway. "They creep me out, you know? They're like… When I first arrived at the Ichijo house, they'd have servants keep an eye on me. But they never had one in a room with me at all times. They'd sit just outside the door, just around the corner, at the base of stairs, wherever. And…"

Kou shook his head and looked up at the sky. "Never mind. Maybe I'm worrying about nothing."

Souji turned his attention to the ducks fighting over a scrap of bread. He tossed another piece in for them to share, but the large group of squabbling ducks simply broke into two smaller groups fighting over different scraps of bread.

Souji looked back at Kou. Kou was no longer looking at the sky. He was now looking directly across the bank, his expression sharpened into a scowl. Souji followed Kou's line of sight.

There was another one of those boys with the black armband, sitting at a bench and taking notes.

"It's Sunday," Kou muttered. "Don't they get enough out of bothering us during the school week?"

Souji didn't say anything, just looked back at the boy. He couldn't quite place it, but the boy looked familiar.

"Hey…"

Souji didn't respond to Kou, just narrowed his eyes, trying to better make out the boy.

"Isn't that…?"

"It is," Souji said.

The boy sitting across from them was from Souji's homeroom. And he hadn't been wearing an armband the day before.

*

Souji sighed as he began sweeping up the broken jar of soy sauce into the scooper. He'd have to lay a sign down and come back to wash the floor, and he was supposed to start his shift at the register. He looked up at the clock. He'd be off in another hour. He could make it.

"My goodness. Hard at work, aren't we, Mister… Seta."

Souji looked up from where he had crouched to pick up some of the larger pieces of glass. It was the man who had held the assembly in the gymnasium two weeks ago and delivered a speech to the school.

Souji lowered his eyes. "Good afternoon, Mister…"

The man smiled his heavy lidded smile. "No need, Mister Seta," he said, putting a small book back into his pocket. "There is no need for formalities, though I appreciate your consideration. In body, we are not at school, but in spirit… well, even when we're at home, we're never truly away from school, are we?"

"We?" Souji asked, not looking up at the man.

The man laughed. "Of course, how silly of me. I mean to say you."

Souji finished scooping the glass and stood up to dispose of the waste. But as he started walking away, the man followed him.

"I have noticed on occasion, Mister Seta, that you'll sometimes disappear for a class period. Miraculously, you might reappear a few hours later, and no one seems to be bothered by that. Doesn't it seem odd to you, Mister Seta?"

Souji let the glass fall into the trashcan with a loud crunch.

"You understand, Mister Seta, that education is the highest priority at your age?"

Souji turned around to face the man, hands reaching behind him to loosen and retie the strings of his apron, tighter this time. "Is there something I can help you with?"

The man's smile widened. "Merely listen to some advice for your future."

"It's Sunday."

The man blinked, his smile never disappearing from his face. "That is true, Mister Seta."

The man turned around and walked away, stopping just before he turned the corner.

"Good night, Mister Seta. I'll see you tomorrow."

*

"Will Misters Hanamura, Tatsumi, Seta, Nagase, and Ichijo please report to the faculty office after school."

It was through that request from the speakers across the school that Yosuke, Kanji, Souji, Daisuke, and Kou ended up standing outside the doors of the faculty office. The school was empty now and the sun was setting early, the dying orange light staining the white halls of the school.

The door opened. It was the man again. He didn't look at them as he stepped out, eyes trained on his clipboard, face blank. After a minute, he looked up and smiled at them.

"Good afternoon, boys. If you'll please follow me."

They all looked at each other but did as they were told, eventually making their way to a pair of cellar doors outside and near the track. The doors were flanked by two students wearing black armbands and they opened the doors as they saw the man approaching.

"Please go in," the man said.

The basement had not been significantly renovated. Immediately opposite of the entrance, two red curtain supported by wheeled metal frames divided the grey stone room widthwise so that whatever was behind it could not be seen. A few metal folding chairs were scattered around, forming a small, makeshift waiting room.

The man turned to Souji, Kou, and Daisuke. "You three may wait here. Mister Hanamura, Mister Tatsumi, please come with me."

"What're we here for?" Yosuke asked, an insincere chuckle coming out of his mouth as he spoke.

The man's smile flickered just briefly, its disappearance almost coinciding with the flickering of the light above him, but it was back in place when he began speaking. "I suppose they—" he looked at Souji, Kou, and Daisuke, "—will overhear us anyway. When will they authorize us to finally build our own soundproofed chambers? Ah, never mind.

"Mister Hanamura, you have been recorded regularly sleeping in class, polluting the air with excessively loud music via your headphones, acting in a way around the female sex that we see fit to file under 'impropriety,' and we have heard reports of reckless operation of your bicycle before the commencement of this project.

"Mister Tatsumi, we hear reports of your terrorizing and intimidating other students. In addition to that, you have broken uniform rules by bleaching your hair and wearing—" he eyed Kanji's skull shirt, "—nonstandard accessories.

"Mister Hanamura, you will be punished with fifty whips on the soles of your feet. Mister Tatsumi, thirty. Oh don't worry," he said to Yosuke's strangled cry and Kanji darkening expression, "though it will be painful, it is rare for there to be any lasting damage, and after a few minutes, you will be able to walk again without difficulty. And please don't think of retaliating, Mister Tatsumi. We do have records on where you live, and I would not like to speak with your mother about your insubordination. Take them away."

Souji looked at Kou and Daisuke. Kou was frozen, clearly too shocked to respond, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Daisuke was not so stoic, his fists clenched and teeth gnawing at his lip hard enough to draw blood, but he had heard what the man had said to Kanji. He was smart enough to know that could be turned on him or his family.

The two boys with the armbands took hold of Yosuke and Kanji's arms and began leading them to the curtains. Kanji shook off the boy's grasp with a snarl and walked through the curtain himself, stopping to throw it open roughly enough to jar the wheeled frames holding them up.

"Ha, good one…" Yosuke said, his smile quivering as the other boy moved to grab his other arm. "You aren't really… I mean, isn't that illegal?"

"Oh no," the man said. "You don't have to worry about that."

"I… wait… no, wait!" Yosuke's legs gave out beneath him and he fell to his knees, the two boys' support being the only thing keeping him from collapsing completely, as tears began to well up in the corners of his eyes.

"Come now, Mister Hanamura. This will be nothing that you haven't experienced as a child."

The two boys dragged Yosuke past the curtains, his monosyllabic protests having deteriorated into teary, fearful moans. The curtains closed behind him and they muffled most of his sobs, but not all.

The man walked up to the curtain, spread it with one hand, then looked over his shoulder at Souji, Daisuke, and Kou. "Please feel free to sit down. Your turn will come up soon."

Souji barely heard what happened next, the man's words blurring in a litany of numbers and orders. Souji held his hands in his lap and looked down at them, trying not to listen to Yosuke and Kanji's screams mixing with the sharp swishes in the air.

"Disgusting! You shame the uniform of your school! Perhaps you'd like another thirty whips? Don't let him out of the stocks! Make him watch his senpai pay for his transgressions!"

Yosuke's cries gradually subsided to a weak, muffled whimper halfway through, until there was only the sharp sound of something striking flesh. Souji looked over to Kou and Daisuke. Kou had adopted a similar position to Souji's and Daisuke had his arms folded over his chest, eyes cast down as he tapped a foot on the ground. Nerves, likely.

At last, the whipping ended. After a few minutes, the curtains opened and Kanji and Yosuke limped out, Yosuke's limp more pronounced due to the wet spot in his crotch traveling down the leg of his pants. Kanji's expression was stoic, though he would wince slightly with every few steps; Yosuke didn't meet any of their eyes, dried tear tracks streaked down his cheeks and a trail of clear mucus dripping from his nose.

"Misters Seta, Ichijo, Nagase, you may enter. Misters Tatsumi, Hanamura, please stay in the lobby."

The half of the room behind the curtain was similarly sparsely decorated, with one unusual detail. In front of the three metal chairs arranged neatly in a row hovered three stocks suspended from the ceiling with iron chains. The stocks were open at the moment and the man motioned for Souji, Kou, and Daisuke to sit down.

"You will take your shoes off," the man said as he put a stick into an umbrella holder. The surface looked like it had begun to crack.

Daisuke gave an obligatory grumble but the three of them did as they were commanded.

"The socks too. Now place your ankles in the lower half-hole."

The man turned to the two boys with the black armbands. "Now, would either of you like to do the honors?"

Neither boy said a word, nervously exchanging glances as they fiddled with the hems of their shirts.

"Oh, honestly. I can't be here forever. For this system to work, you must be willing to take on the duty of policing each other and meting out punishment. I know it isn't fun, but…"

He lowered the top of the stock over Daisuke's ankles and put the lock in place, all with one smooth motion of his hand, repeating the process for Kou and Souji without breaking stride. "You'll find you only feel the guilt once. Now, if you will."

One of the boys brought a black suitcase to the man. The man opened it and retrieved a pair of vernier calipers.

"I suppose I'll need you both to take notes once again," he said to the boys as he walked over to Daisuke, opening the calipers to measure the length and width of Daisuke's feet.

"What the hell are you doing?" Daisuke muttered through gritted teeth.

"Twenty-six and thirty-five-hundredths centimeters long," the man said without looking at Daisuke. "Twelve centimeters wide, medium callusing on the heels, toes, and balls of his feet." He looked up at the two boys. "Any irregularities in proportions are an indicator of moral illness. But even if we cannot correct the symptoms, we can correct the disease."

He moved down the line to Kou ("Twenty-six centimeters long, ten and one-tenths centimeters wide, no callusing) and Souji ("Twenty-eight centimeters long, nine and two-fifths centimeters wide, slight callusing) before handing the calipers to one of the boys. The other boy brought another black suitcase to the man. He opened it; inside, resting on a red, velvet lined interior, was a long, thin wooden rod.

"Normally, we would have more specialized tools," the man said, pulling the stick out and rolling it between his thumb and index finger. "But we have to fight for our funding, so we'll have to improvise. Still, that is no reason to disrespect the tools of your trade, don't you think?"

He ended his sentence by swinging the rod downward. It hissed through the cool, still air.

"Very good. Mister Nagase, for failing to maintain satisfactory scores and for breaking refusing to change out of your tracksuit into the school mandated uniform, forty whips. Mister Ichijo, for frequenting restaurants of ill repute and for keeping… bad company, twenty whips. And Mister Seta."

The man turned to Souji, his smile fixed firmly on his lips. "For keeping bad company, for failure to devote yourself to your studies, and for insubordination, thirty whips."

The man moved to Kou, putting one of his hands on Kou's foot, massaging the arch and balls as he tapped the tip of the rod to his sole. Kou's expression steeled, even as a bead of sweat dripped down his temple, and he did not break eye contact with the man.

"Mister Ichijo, I think I'll begin with you."

Kou's stoicism crumbled as the first whip cracked through the air. He managed to not make a noise with the first three strikes, but he let go with the fourth one, a cry-sob pouring out of his mouth as he leaned over with each strike of the rod, his eyes wide and teary before he closed them again and bit his lip to keep any noise from coming out.

Souji tried not to look at Kou as the whipping continued and meant to train his eyes on the wall, but ended up catching a glimpse of Daisuke.

Daisuke was staring intently as Kou, gaze moving back and forth between Kou's face and his ever-reddening feet as the man continued to whip them.

Souji, sure he wasn't meant to see that, turned his gaze back to the wall. The two boys were still there, holding their clipboards to their chests or in front of their bellies, looking to the side, at the ceiling, at the wall, anywhere but the scene before them.

At last, Kou's turn was over. He gasped for air, blinking his way through tears as the man used the rod to tap at the space between Kou's big and second toe.

Souji looked over at Daisuke. Daisuke released a breath he clearly didn't know he was holding. The crotch of his tracksuit bulged slightly, accompanied by occasional small twitches.

"Chin up, Mister Ichijo," the man said as tapped his open palm with the rod. "I have no doubt you've experienced worse with your upbringing."

He walked over to Souji, casting a brief glance at Daisuke and his unexpected physiological response, then scowling at the boys still standing off to the side. He turned to look at Souji and the ugly twisting on his face melted from his eyes and lips as his easy smile returned.

"Now then, Mister Seta. Any last words?" He chuckled. "Just kidding. This won't kill you."

The crack of the first strike echoed through the basement, followed by the second, third, fourth, fifth. The man paused briefly, lips twitching as the smile on his face threatened to slide off.

Not once during the duration of those whips did Souji make a noise.

Souji kept his head bent down, but he looked up at the man through his bangs. His face was blank, but his eyes were steely and narrowed. Barely a tear had gathered at the corners.

The man sneered and resumed his whipping, harder this time, knuckles white as he gripped the switch harder, but still Souji made no sound. The whips became more erratic, quick half hits instead of the strong, steady strikes from before. The man was snarling now, some hair beginning to dampen with sweat and fall free from his coiffure.

With a crack, the switch broke clean in two, the top half flying away when the man retracted his arm for the next swing. But the man did not stop his whipping.

After several more strikes, the man raised his flogging arm, his face now livid with rage; instead of striking widthwise like he had done the entire time, he prepared to bring the switch down lengthwise on Souji's toes.

"Sir!" On of the boys ran up to the man, grabbing his free arm. His voice was nervous, high and shaky. "That's enough, sir! You've already hit him thirty times!"

"Get off of me, boy! Unless you'd like to join them next?" The man shoved the boy away from him and the boy stumbled back and fell on his rear before being quickly helped up by the other boy.

The man turned to Souji, lips contorted into a snarl. Souji breathed heavily, some clear mucus dripping from his nose from the effort not to cry, but he had not made a noise the entire time. The man looked down at the broken switch and he pressed his lips together into a thin line, chest heaving from the exertion, then looked back at Souji.

"Get me another stick, boy," he said without breaking his glare from Souji.

"But sir—"

"Did I ask you to speak?" the man asked, turning on the two boys. "Get me another stick!"

"Sir, we only have one more stick, and what if you break that one?"

The man shot one last look at Souji before walking over to one of the boys and snatching the switch from his hands. He then turned to Daisuke, and his expression softened and he made a disappointed tut with his tongue. Souji turned his head to see what had happened.

So absorbed had Souji been in denying the man the pleasure of his cries that he had completely ignored Daisuke, who now had a full erection tenting the crotch of his tracksuit. Daisuke tried to look away from the rest of them, but the man seized his face and forced him to make eye contact, the rod pressed firmly against Daisuke's cheek.

"My, my, Mister Nagase. What have we here?" The man used his other hand to begin stroking the soles of Daisuke's feet. Daisuke closed his eyes but the man squeezed Daisuke's jaw harder until he opened his eyes again.

The man rubbed his thumb in lazy circles on the arch of Daisuke's foot, threaded his fingers between the toes to massage the spaces. Daisuke groaned and his eyes moved in their sockets away from the man, first to Kou and Souji, then quickly away from them. His erection twitched slightly.

"Not to worry, Mister Nagase." The man continued facing Daisuke, but as he spoke, he looked straight at Souji through the corner of his eye. "It will all be over soon."

Daisuke yelped at the first whip, his toes curling in with each hit. The man smiled and after a few strikes, he dramatically reduced the force of the strikes, tapping lightly at Daisuke's soles and rubbing the stick up and down his feet. Daisuke began panting, but not because of lack of breath from his screaming. His eyes glazed over and the corners of his mouth began to lift into a blissful smile. The man resumed his flogging and Daisuke began yelping out again, but his cries had taken on a heady, pleasured quality.

Souji's dick began to twitch and he quickly looked away, about the same time Kou had, allowing Souji to see Kou's face. Kou's face was flushed slightly and he looked at his lap. He also had a slight bulge in his crotch.

"Only five strikes left, Mister Nagase. Can I count on you to make an effort to better your educational standing?"

"Ah! Ah… yes!"

"I'm not sure I believe you," the man said, stopping his hand. There was only one whip left.

"I…" Daisuke gulped. "I… I promise! Just… please…"

"Don’t punish you again?" The man's smile widened even more than could be physically possible, spreading Glasgow-like towards his ears. "No, I don't think that's what you really mean to say."

With one last, firm smack, the man struck Daisuke's feet and Daisuke cried out again, only this time louder, his head falling back and his hips rising off the chair. He held that position for a few seconds before collapsing back into the chair.

"Check his suit," the man said to the two boys, who were now blushing and had their clipboards lowered to the front of their pants. One of them did as he was told and lifted the waistband of Daisuke's track pants. The man walked around to the other side of the seat and looked down Daisuke's waistband into his genitals.

"Tsk, tsk, Mister Nagase. You seem to have soiled yourself—with ejaculate, to be clear," the man said to the other boy as if he were still having them record every detail. "Perhaps we'll have to keep you behind for some supplementary lessons. Something different, I think."

He looked up at Souji and Kou. "You may leave. Release them."

Souji and Kou put their shoes back on and gingerly walked out of the room through the curtains. Kanji and Yosuke were still sitting there, and none of the four made eye contact or said a word or made a move.

Behind the curtains, the sound of something metal and wheeled rolled into the room.


	2. Operating Principles

"Well, Mister Nagase," the man said once Souji and Kou had passed the curtain. "It looks like our more usual methods are not so helpful on you."

The man smiled, and it was a repulsive change, like a time-lapsed video of a corpse splitting open to reveal a teeming mass of maggots. "If you'll please," he said to the boys.

One of them disappeared into the storage closet behind him and came out quickly with a small metal table on wheels. On the tray was a clear plastic bottle, much like the kind used in dispensing sauces, and a collection of long rods, the last third of each rod hooking up at a slight angle.

"What the hell are you planning to do with that?" Daisuke gritted out.

"Remove his clothes."

The boys did as the man commanded and Daisuke did not resist, though he did not help them in any way, keeping his limbs loose at his sides so they had to struggle to pull his arms out.

"Masturbate him until he's hard."

The boys looked at each other and one of them kneeled between Daisuke's legs. Squirting some of the fluid from the bottle onto his fingers—lubricant, from the viscosity—the boy gripped Daisuke's semi-erect penis, still sticky with semen, and began stroking him.

The boy varied his strokes, long slow ones, quick ones, teased at the common sensitive spots on the penis, but Daisuke didn't get any harder, in fact, became more flaccid.

"I guess I can only get it up once a day," Daisuke said with a smirk. "Wanna let me go now?"

"Not yet," the man said, walking over to Daisuke. "Let go of him."

The boy did as he was told and the man leaned down until his lips were level with Daisuke's ear.

"Bring me my notes."

The other boy handed the man his leather-bound book and the man opened it, looking down at the pages with a stern and studious look on his face. Hs eyes darted up occasionally, at Daisuke, toward the chair where Kou had been sat, back to his book, his lips moving slightly as he talked wordlessly to himself, and he closed the book with a snap and looked back up at Daisuke, smiling once more.

"I've seen the way you look at that friend of yours. Kou Ichijo. He's very handsome, isn't he?"

Daisuke's eyes widened and he lunged toward the man, swung his fist, connecting hard against the man's cheek, a crack echoing through the room. The boys quickly ran toward Daisuke to restrain him, tying his wrists down to the chair with plastic cords as he struggled to get back to the man, to pound his face in until his body stopped twitching.

The man stood up and rubbed his cheek, an ugly bruise and swelling already beginning to spread. He spat a bit of blood—no teeth, to Daisuke's disappointment—and walked back over to Daisuke, shaky and breathing hard, a few unshed tears in the corners of his eyes.

"You don't have to pretend," the man said, as if nothing had happened, though Daisuke smirked at how his speech was coming out muffled and slightly slurred. "You're among friends. And we've seen so much of you in our brief acquaintance, haven't we?

"You're a—" the man looked at Daisuke warily, then continued one once he was certain Daisuke could not move, "—growing young man. I'm sure you've had urges. How do you like to do it? In the toilet? In your room when you should be sleeping? Or do you like to do it in his home? And what do you do it to? May I describe a fantasy? And please stop me if I am being presumptuous.

"He's in the locker room. You're just around the corner and he hasn't noticed you. He's finished undressing, ready for the shower, and the he only needs to remove his socks. And he does, slowly, the fabric sliding down his calves, revealing smooth, milky skin, and then the sock is off, and he rests his foot on the ground, just the balls and toes so you can see that pretty arch of his. And when he leaves for the shower, you come in and grab his sock, to add to your collection, to sniff at while you masturbate and to hold under your penis as you ejaculate so the black fabric will be crusted with your semen and your scents mingle together."

"N-no, why would I… why would anyone want…" Daisuke's cock had begun to harden once more.

"And unable to help yourself, you take that moment to breathe deep the smell of your friend, and that is your undoing, because Kou returns, having forgotten his towel, and he sees you, and you see him and fall back, trying to explain yourself to him. Here the fantasy becomes hazy because it is, after all, your private fantasy, and who will judge sloppy writing? But in the next scene, he is on the bench and you are kneeling in front of him, and he has tied your hands behind your back and he has begun using his foot to pleasure you, and it's so soft and his toes are just the perfect shape and length and size as they run up and down your penis."

Daisuke tried to turn his head away but the man, clearly emboldened, manic grin locking his face into rictus, forced his head back. Now Daisuke was completely hard, cock twitching every couple seconds.

"He rubs his sole in circles around your slit, slowly, and pulls his foot back, and it's glossy with preseminal fluid. He pushes his toe against your mouth and he doesn't need to say anything. You accept it, lightly suck and lick at the digit while he lowers his other foot to your crotch."

A thread of precum fell from the tip of Daisuke's penis, broke and landed on the chair.

The man stood back, breathing heavily in victory. "Take note, boys. Sometimes there are better methods than brute force."

His expression flattened, eyes narrowing lazily and the corner of his lower lip quirking up. His story had taken its physiological toll on the boys: one of them tried to discreetly cup and rub his erection while the other conspicuously held his notebook in front of his crotch. The man walked over to both of them and leaned down to whisper in their ears. "Naughty boys. After we're done for the day, you two stay behind for your… punishment."

The boys shivered. The man straightened his back and walked to the opposite end of the room, across from Daisuke. "Now then, if you two will please do the honors. While he is still ready?"

The boys picked up one of the rods, the thickest available, and rubbed fresh lubricant over it. They walked over to Daisuke, unreadable expressions on their faces.

"Wh-what are you planning to do?" Daisuke asked, eyes darting back and forth from the rod and the hands on his penis, the way one of the boys used his thumb and forefinger to apply pressure down and out, opening the slit at the tip of Daisuke's penis.

The boys began rubbing the end of the rod against the slit and Daisuke jerked away, though he could not move far.

"Hey—no, wait!" Daisuke looked up at the man, who only smirked as he opened up his book and thumbed through the pages.

"'It is all very well to talk of this reform and that reform," the man recited, "but, after all, a great deal lies in the hand of the men who come into actual contact with the class for whom the school board system is run… Many of these are tractable children, anxious to learn, and well-behaved withal; others—and they are many, very many—are juvenile hooligans of an advanced and virulent type…"

The rod slipped in and Daisuke screamed. He cursed and spat at them, but they did not yield and the rod slipped in deeper, pain scorching through his groin, through his back and traveling up his spine. He fought hard against every nerve in his body commanding him to move, to thrash and fight and run away from the pain, because if he moved his hips, the rod could just as easily rip through his erection as it had slipped in.

"Now, now, Mister Nagase. It'll all be over soon. I confess I am pleased with your relative restraint thus far. Try not to hurt him too much, boys. That'll be for later… 'The average child of, say, the Borough does not mind mere "stopping in," or writing lines; he does not see anything degrading about it. But give him a sharp reminder that he will feel and the ethics of punishment at once strike him as a disagreeable reality.'"

The hooked end went up and Daisuke heard something pop. More pain surged through him, but even worse, damnable and to his shame, he felt just the tiniest kernel of pleasure.

"That should be his urethral sphincter," the man said to the boys, closing his book. "Clever little thing. Surrounded by the prostate, so penetrating it can be quite pleasurable. It is pleasurable, isn't it, Mister Nagase?"

Tears began to roll down Daisuke's cheeks and his breath caught in his throat. He grit his teeth and tried not to make a sound as the rod continued sliding in and out of his slit, popping through that spot that made him shiver with uncontrollable pain and pleasure.

"It's probably going into your bladder. How does it feel?" The man batted the boys' hands away and pressed the tip of his finger against the end of the rod and began wiggling it around. More pain and pleasure shot through Daisuke and he felt that familiar mounting pressure in his groin.

"S-stop… I can't—no… take it out!"

"Take it out…?" The man pushed and pulled the rod in and out, just barely, so that it was rubbing inside Daisuke and he could no longer tell whether it was the pleasure or the pain threatening to make him black out.

"Please!"

The man sneered and pulled the rod out with one swift motion. Daisuke suddenly felt empty, followed by more pain and then relief. He closed his eyes and turned away from the man and the boys as his bladder emptied itself in a long, unbroken upward stream. He tried not to cry when his piss followed gravity and rained down on him, wetting his body with pungent urine.

Daisuke opened his eyes and tried to catch his breath. The man began writing something in his book while the boys went to the storage closet and emerged with a bucket of water and a mop.

"You are free to leave," the man said. "Feel free to take a shower in the lockers. And take care. School may be over, but you never know if you'll run into anybody on campus."

Daisuke picked up his clothes and pushed past the curtain, and as the man told him that he'd seem him again tomorrow, the tears began to flow free.

*

Daisuke barely noticed the sweet smell of antifreeze and didn't offer more than a mumbled greeting when he walked past his dad and his big brother Ryuto. They were too busy fixing a client's car to notice his reticence, but he was grateful they didn't ask anything anyway.

Daisuke took his shoes off at the top of the stairs leading to the residence above the garage. True to the man's words, no blood showed through his socks and the pain had subsided to a dull ache. His mom's shoes weren't there and he was glad. Satoshi would still be at a friend's house, so he could just avoid speaking to anyone until dinner.

He closed the door to his room and slumped down, back pressed against it, then stood up to pull out his stained briefs for the wash.

There were his texts and notebooks, but nothing else. He sat back down and cradled his head against his knees. Of course. He had burned them as soon as he passed one of the furnaces in the basement.

"Daisuke! Come help me with the groceries!"

His mom passed him a bag and looked at him funny. "Did something happen at school, Daisuke? Did you and that Seta kid get into a fight or something?"

"Huh? Oh, no mom."

"Well, what happened?"

"N… nothing. Just… ate some bad food."

She sighed and heaved the bag of rice onto the kitchen counter. "I keep telling you, stop eating at Aiya so often. You'll ruin your appetite, and Toshi thinks you don't want to see him anymore. Now wash your hands. We're making curry tonight and I need you to help with the vegetables."

*

"Did you hear?"

"What?"

"I heard that Seta guy and some of his friends got held back after school yesterday."

"Duh, everyone heard the announcement."

"Well, I heard that they were taken down to the school basement."

"What do you think they did that for?"

"Who knows…"

*

They didn't speak to each other the next day.

Daisuke didn't just avoid Kou, he also avoided Souji and any of his friends. And from what he'd observed, everyone else had the same idea. It was for the best. How could any of them talk about what happened? Especially Daisuke.

He felt a stirring in his groin and clenched his fists against the desk. Only a few minutes and he could leave.

When the bell rang, he began packing his bag as quickly as he could and stood up to walk to the door.

"Hey, Nagase." It was a member of the football club. "You coming to practice today?"

"No. I'm not feeling—"

"Come on!" The club member put his hand on Daisuke's shoulder and began leading him to the gymnasium. "You seem real down. A boost of adrenaline and some physical will perk you right up."

There was some logic to that. And Daisuke could always leave early, say he wasn't feeling well.

The rest of the club was there. No one had changed into his uniform. Daisuke blinked. "What're we all standing around for?"

The door closed behind them with a click.

"Well, isn't this a nice gathering?"

Daisuke's stomach dropped, but only for a moment and he gritted his teeth in a snarl. He turned around to see the man walking towards them, twirling the key ring around his finger. The man made an attempt at his usual smile and Daisuke smirked. The bruise on his cheek had become even uglier, the iced compress taped to it doing little to reduce the swelling.

The man snapped his fingers and one of his boys walked in front of the team and set a school desk in front of them.

"While athletics are important for training the body, in turn training the mind," the man said over the team's confused murmurs, "it is important that you not neglect your studies."

The man tried to smile, winced, and then managed it, wordlessly eying each member of the team, stopping at Daisuke. "And I think it is time for an object lesson."

He patted the table, smile thinning until his face was devoid of emotion. "Mister Nagase. Please come here."

The other club members looked him and asked him what the hell was going on, and Daisuke did not move.

"Mister Nagase."

Daisuke folded his arms in front of his chest and the man took a deep breath through his nose, a vein beginning to appear in his forehead. He walked up to Daisuke and put his hand on Daisuke's shoulder, his grip like a vise.

"You're a smart boy, Mister Nagase. Not in academics, but where it counts. I know that you don't want me paying—" his voice lowered "—Toshi a visit, do you?"

Daisuke dropped his arms to his side and flexed his fingers, ready to hit the man again. The man looked down, quickly looked back up at Daisuke. "What do you think," the man said, "Mister Ichijo would think when he hears what nasty thoughts you harbor about him?"

Daisuke's eyes widened. "He wouldn't believe you."

The man looked at the rest of the club before turning and guiding Daisuke toward the desk. "He saw how you reacted to his punishment. And I think he'll have a few choice words for your performance when it was your turn."

They were in front of the desk now and the man patted Daisuke's back. "No, I think it would be better for everyone involved if you would just agree."

The man turned around to face the club. "As I was saying, it is important not to neglect our studies, and Mister Nagase here may well be the worst offender of you all. He shirks his responsibility to society, to our nation, and to himself by not taking his education seriously." He smiled. "Before now, you have been allowed freedom, guided only by your understanding of the consequences. But I see that that is not enough.

"Mister Nagase, please get on the desk, on hands and knees, if you will."

Daisuke shot the man a look and swallowed, then did as he was told. The desk was wobbly and he had to keep completely still to prevent it from upending completely. He kept his gaze at the wood floor, the lights above reflected in the polished surface, bright, blurry, yellow circles.

"Take off his pants."

There was a rustle of fabric as the boys followed the man's order. A few whispers came from the crowd of club members.

"They're not really going to—"

"That's…"

"And his underwear too."

Daisuke hissed as they pulled that down and tried not to shiver as the chilly air caressed his bare flesh.

He heard the sound of something slapping together, not at him but from where the man stood and the club members' whispers became louder before cutting off completely.

There was no warning for the first smack. Daisuke cried out and gripped at the edge of the desk, the forward motion of the hit threatening to cause him and the desk to teeter over. He braced himself, shifted back a bit.

"Why is he just… presenting himself like that?"

The spanking continued. Daisuke pressed his head down against the desk, cracked his eyes open to see what the man was hitting him with. It was a wooden paddle, holes drilled into it to prevent air from providing any sort of cushion. The man's eyes met his and the man grabbed Daisuke's head, fingers threaded into his short hair, and forced his head up to look straight forward before resuming the spanking.

Now the club members had stopped talking, nausea and confusion clear on their faces.

After a few minutes, the man stopped and handed the paddle to one of his boys. He rubbed his hand against Daisuke's raw cheeks and Daisuke hissed and winced. He could feel the heat radiating around the man's hand, the tingling pinpricks still dancing under the surface, almost a slight itch that grew steadily worse as the man rubbed the skin.

"You are all dismissed," the man said. "Best of luck with your studies."

The club gradually left the gym, hushed whispers back again, none of them meeting eyes with the man for more than a second when any of them looked over at Daisuke.

"Well, Mister Nagase," the man said once they were alone, "I hope that you'll take this learning experience and apply it to yourself."

"Are you fucking serious?"

The man whirled around, teeth bared in a snarl, but Daisuke did not flinch, just sneered as he got off the desk on slightly shaky legs and pulled his pants up. "You think that'll get me to change my ways? This is child's play compared to what I go through on the regular."

The man took several quick steps toward Daisuke, the paddle still clenched in his white-knuckled fist, rigid by his side as he walked, but then he stopped, licked his lips, forced himself to smile, no sincerity in it—or at least not fueled by whatever drove him to be what he was.

"Have a good day, Mister Nagase."

Daisuke walked past the man, taking care to bump shoulders hard enough to make the man stumble and he walked out the gymnasium. One past the doors, he looked up. The sky was still cloudy and grey, but it had thinned a bit. His phone gave off its text chime and he pulled it out. It was from Toshi, asking him if he was going to be out again.

Daisuke began his walk home, dialed the number, and held the phone up to his ear.


	3. Exposition of Motives

"Are you okay?" Souji asked over the phone.

Yosuke should have just ignored his cell, but he'd never missed a call from his partner and he wasn't going to start now, even if he did feel humiliated beyond compare.

"I'm fine. I managed to get home before my parents, so I put my pants in the washer." It hadn't been easy walking through town with the cold, wet sensation traveling from his groin and down his legs. It was only through the grace of the late hour that he hadn't run into anyone who might scrutinize the stains in his pants. He probably should have tossed in his socks as well. Hell, if he could, he would have just tossed his uniform in the furnace.

Yosuke fell back onto his bed, letting his feet kick up into the air before dropping back down onto the floor. "How about you, partner? Sounds like things got kind of… wild when he was working on you."

Souji laughed, though there was a hitch when it started. "Yeah. Well, people like him… it's not hard to figure out what riles them up."

"That's scary. I'm glad you're on our side, partner."

*

"Would you like another drink?" one of the boys asked Yosuke.

Yosuke looked at the other boy standing in front of a small refrigerator, the door opened to reveal the inside packed with cartons and cans of beverages.

"Ah, I probably shouldn't." He'd already gone through a soda and three cans of fruit-flavored tea in just a few minutes and now he was nursing an iced milk coffee. How a basement in winter managed to feel so warm was a mystery, more so since neither of the boys appeared to be affected by the heat.

"Some water, then," the boy said, filling a paper cup to the brim and pressing it into Yosuke's hand.

The cup came just in reach of Yosuke's lips when the door slammed open. Jumping, Yosuke dropped the water onto his front and grimaced. At least his coffee had been on the floor.

The man walked in. Yosuke looked away when the man caught him staring at the iced compress taped to the discolored, swollen bruise on his cheek.

"Is he in the room?" the man asked the boys, reaching over to pick up his clipboard after looking briefly at the heavy red curtains that divided the room.

"Yes, he is."

"Has he been restrained?"

"Yes, limbs and mouth."

"Good." The man set the clipboard down and accepted the birch rod one of the boys handed him. "Though all things considered—" he looked at Yosuke, "—you didn't need to gag him."

The man walked past the curtains. A boy Yosuke didn't recognize began pleading, but that didn't help him and the familiar sound of the rod striking skin lifted up and past the curtains.

"More water?" one of the boys asked, filling the empty cup Yosuke still held in his hand. Yosuke looked away from the curtain and at the boy, then lowered his head in a silent nod.

At last, the screams subsided. A few minutes later, the boy who had been punished staggered out from behind the curtains and left without looking at anyone else in the room, head lowered and eyes fixed to the ground.

"Bring him in," the man said.

Yosuke did consider fleeing or trying to put up a fight, but it departed when one of the boys—shorter than he was!—put his arms around Yosuke's back and walked him toward the curtain.

"Fighting back will just get you hurt," he murmured as he eased Yosuke past the partition.

The set up was similar to last time. The only difference was the school desk placed near the chairs and stocks. The man stood next to the desk and patted it. "Mister Hanamura, if you will."

Yosuke hesitated for a moment, then lowered his pants and stepped out of them.

"Everything, Mister Hanamura."

"W-what?"

"You heard me."

Yosuke blushed deep red, but his hands went up to unbutton his jacket anyway. He shrugged it off and lifted his shirt over his head, shucked that and lowered his underwear to his ankles.

Now completely naked, Yosuke climbed on top of the desk and leaned over, one hand cupped over his genitals, fingers stretched up to try and cover his asshole as well.

"No, hands and knees."

Screwing his eyes shut, Yosuke revealed himself to the man and moved his hands in front of him.

"You do that so naturally," the man said, rubbing Yosuke's ass lightly with his hand. Yosuke shivered a little. His cock twitched and a bit of pressure began to build in his groin.

That sensation ended when the man struck Yosuke's ass, the sharp, sudden hit causing Yosuke to yelp and jump a little.

The man continued to spank Yosuke and he groaned, the pressure in his crotch becoming more powerful with each strike, jarring back and forth, growing with each hit, and Yosuke's eyes widened as he realized what he was feeling.

He clamped down the muscles beneath his pelvis and winced. His hold loosened a bit each time the man hit him, tightened, loosened, back and forth in exquisite agony, and he could have sworn he felt a little bit come out towards the end, but eventually the man stopped and Yosuke breathed a sigh of relief.

The man pulled back and Yosuke remained in his position, waiting for the tingling to subside. He tried not to make a sound as the man rubbed his hot, red ass cheeks. The sooner he could leave, the sooner he could relieve his full bladder in a private stall proper.

"Do you see this, boys?"

Yosuke's eyes widened.

"This is the color you want after spanking them. If you do it especially well, later, then the skin and muscle begins healing, they'll suffer a terrible itching that will stay with them for days. A bonus, if you will. Now then, you may get up, Mister Hanamura."

Yosuke did and tried not to turn around.

"Is something the matter, Mister Hanamura?"

The man spun Yosuke around to face the boys and Yosuke tried to cover his semi-erect cock, but the man pulled his hands back by the wrists as soon as he did.

"My, Mister Hanamura. What have we here?"

He ran his fingers right through Yosuke's pubes, pressed down hard, and Yosuke cried out and shook his head, closed his eyes so that he couldn't see the boys looking at him. But they were looking at him.

In the warm air, a thin sheen of sweat grew on Yosuke's nude body. A drop rolled down his neck, down his chest to hang on one of his nipples before falling to land to the ground. His cock grew fully erect as the man continued massaging his bladder, the pressure spreading out and retracting and moving up his shaft and he opened his eyes and saw the boys staring at him, not even with much interest, and he let go, the stream of urine arcing out unbroken except for the occasional twitch of his cock causing the stream to stop before resuming, pleasure coursing from the tip through his entire body.

When he finally finished, he slumped back against the man, panting. The warm urine begin to lap against his bare feet as it pooled out. A few residual surges of euphoria twitched through his body and his eyelids fluttered. He tried not to make eye contact with the boys, his cock twitching a little when he saw they hadn't looked away.

"My, aren't we lucky that you didn't get any on your uniform? Clean up, Mister Hanamura. Have a good day."

*

Yosuke looked down at his phone as it vibrated. Souji was calling.

He clicked the volume button to send the call to voicemail and slumped back on his bed. Holding the phone above him, he let his finger circle the little hole where the camera was.


	4. Family Law

The Ichijo cousins had come to visit. Sitting in the meeting room across from Kou, they stood out for their own reasons: Takashi, the son of an aunt, in his formal, stark kimono amidst the suited men; Yasuo, husband to the daughter of one of Kou's uncles, his stocky build breaking the line of willowy, slender Ichijo men. Though really, only Kou could call himself a true Ichijo. And as his cousins never failed to remind him, that was up for intense debate.

Kou thanked the servants quietly after they set the tea down. They did not respond; likewise, his cousins did not say anything to the servants as they moved away from the table.

Kou coughed, the tie a little too tight around his collar. "How has school been, Takashi?"

Takashi exchanged a look with Yasuo before straightening his back and tipping his head up a bit. "Fine. I should be finishing up by next year."

"Ah. And… ah, what are you studying?"

Takashi picked up his cup and took a slow sip, eyes fixed firmly on his tea.

Kou shifted in his seat and turned to his other cousin. "And… how about you, Yasuo?"

"The wife is fine," Yasuo said, looking at Kou over the rim of his glasses.

"What about you, Kou?" Takashi asked, setting his cup down. "You seem… different."

"Oh? Um, how so?"

Takashi smirked. "More agreeable."

*

"Well, Mister Ichijo? We don't have all day."

Kou frowned and his chest tensed up, but he sat down and undid the buckles on his shoes, slipped them off before hooking his thumb past the hem of his socks and pulling those down too.

"You know, Mister Ichijo—" The boys propped Kou's feet onto the table and bound his ankles down with the built-in leather straps. "Our budget increase request was finally approved. Do you like it? But I digress. I just want you to know that I don't take any pleasure doing this."

One of the boys brought another slender box over to the man and he opened it, retrieving from it a black, shining crop whip.

"Branches are so primitive, don't you think? I adore the functional beauty of a tool with purpose. You know what's coming up, don't you?"

The man rubbed the shaft of the whip between Kou's toes and Kou whimpered before he could stop himself.

"Ah… wait! Can't we make a deal?"

"What deal could you possibly make, Mister Ichijo? Money? Let's not be so crass. If a man could buy his way out of punishment… well, the world would be a terrible place, wouldn't it?"

"I… Please. I can't… I don't want—"

"You play basketball, don't you? Odd little habit, considering, but I suppose your family doesn't mind leaving you to your own devices."

Kou winced when the man delivered the first strike. It hurt less than the last time, so he was able to avoid making any noise, but that didn't last long: as the swats continued, the pain accumulated, and soon Kou was rocking against his chair, trying to pull his feet away.

"Hmm? What's that you said?"

He didn't even realize he had started begging for the man to stop, but now that it had come out, there was no point in trying to restore any lost dignity. "P-please stop…"

"No." Another smack. "This is meant to be punishment."

Hot tears began streaming down Kou's face. "I… it hurts…"

"It's supposed to. Are you worried that you won't be able to play basketball again? You'll recover. They all do. Physical pain is temporary."

The man gave Kou's feet another smack, hard enough that Kou thought he felt blood being drawn. But when the man dragged his nails on the soles and pulled them away largely clean, Kou was allowed that bit of relief.

"Your friend, Mister Nagase, he was not so gratifying. I'm pleased to see you're making some progress."

Kou opened his eyes and moved his head so that he was looking the man straight in the eye. "Don't talk about him."

The man frowned and pulled his arm back, brought it down for one final smack right on Kou's toes and Kou nearly drew blood biting his cheek to keep himself from screaming out, but the man would not have that satisfaction.

Kou winced when the man placed his hand on his hot, stinging soles.

"You're a good, upright young man, and you've been led astray by a few bad influences. You don't deserve the same punishment as they do, but you still need it if you are to return to the proper path."

The man licked his lips as he rubbed his thumb against Kou's big toe, moved one hand to free Kou's other hand, using the forward movement of his body to allow his crotch to press hard against Kou's foot. He was hard.

He stood back to let Kou rub his ankles and put his shoes back on, the tiniest flush tinting his pale face. Kou tried not to look down at him or the slight bulge in his pants as he passed the curtains and walked toward the door.

"I'll see you later, Mister Ichijo."

*

"Fuck, my ass has been itching like a mother!"

Kou frowned over his comic at Daisuke's salty language, more for the fact that Toshi, Daisuke's younger brother, was only a room over.

"Don't give me that look. He's thirteen, he's heard and said worse."

"Maybe I just don't want to hear about your itchy ass."

"You want to know all about my ass."

Kou laughed and threw the comic at Daisuke, who mock-tackled him, leading to the two of them rolling around on the floor a bit, earning a shout from Daisuke's mother and rhythmic banging from the workshop below.

"Ha, guess that's my cue to help her with dinner." Daisuke stood up and stretched, reached down his pants to scratch at his behind. Kou winced as the waistband went down a little. The peek of Daisuke's rear was streaked in faint, red lines, the skin flaking from where he had been scratching. Kou's soles began to tingle again just from looking.

"You wanna stay for dinner?"

Kou shook his head and stood up. "No, I ought to get back soon. My cousins are in town and they'd pounce on an opportunity to chew me out for avoiding their asshole behavior."

"Yikes, again? Weren't they here back in January? One visit a year not good enough?"

"Ha, I know."

*

The Ichijo manor was silent. Not that it was ever truly noisy, but the sounds of the servants padding down the halls, of their breathing as they stood to the side unnoticed, even the noises of the birds and dogs, all of it was gone.

Kou left his shoes at the door and walked in, stopped when he saw them in his peripheral, inside the meeting room immediately to the left of the entrance.

The man was speaking with Takashi and Yasuo. All three of them were smiling, though when his cousins caught sight of him, they smoothed their expressions to more stoic ones.

"Ah, Mister Ichijo," the man said, turning to Kou. "Though I suppose I ought to say, Mister Ichijo, proper."

Kou tensed up, both at the man's words and just the sight of him with Yasuo and Takashi. He took a step back, tried not to make a show of it.

"Your teacher," Yasuo said, "has been explaining to us the reason behind your recent behavior. I'd been wondering why you were even more cringing and obeisant than you usually are."

Takashi took a step forward, arms folded into his sleeves. "He said you have some proof on you. Why don't you show us?"

Kou took a step back and bumped into someone. He couldn't turn around fast enough before the servant pinned his arms behind his back. Two more servants rushed in from the flanks and grabbed his ankles, pinned his feet down upon the table and removed his socks.

Takashi and Yasuo leaned over to leer at Kou's still marked soles.

"Look at that," Yasuo said.

Takashi tsked. "What did you do to earn this, cousin?"

Kou struggled to break free of the servants' grip, to move his feet away from his cousins' voyeuristic gaze, but that effort died upon hearing Takashi's next words.

"But don't you want to bring honor to our name, Kou?"

Kou started breathing heavily, tried to muster up the will to continue fighting, but it all drained from his limbs as his stomach fell and heart began to race. His hands flexed into loose fists before dropping and the corners of his eyes began to water and sting when he looked away from them.

"Unsightly, isn't it," the man said, walking up to Yasuo and Takashi. "I knew it would be shameful, but he had to be punished."

"Punishment does lead to correction," Takashi said, pulling his hands from his sleeves to flex them near his chest.

"And don't you think," the man said, "that he ought to be punished more for his unsightliness?"

Yasuo smiled and laughed, the sound mostly coming out of his nose. "The Ichijos do have to maintain a tradition of beauty."

"Bend him over," the man said to the servants. When they didn't move, Takashi gave the order and they complied.

"L-let me go!" Kou shouted to the servants. "I outrank both of them! You have to listen to me!"

The servants did not loosen their grip.

"You," Takashi said, taking a step closer, "are barely a guest in this house. And where punishment is concerned, custom is god above blood and law, dear cousin."

"You'll want to use your bare hand," the man said and Yasuo and Takashi's smiles became thinner and more self-satisfied. "That way you'll only be delivering as much pain as you can handle."

"Well," Takashi said, holding the folds of his kimono as he knelt down next to Kou. "I suppose it's good that there are two of us. Stand back!"

The servants who were preparing to lower Kou's pants froze and looked up at Takashi.

"I'll do it."

Kou bent his head low as his pants were yanked off and his bare ass exposed for everyone in the room to see.

Takashi did not revel in the quiet build up like the man did. Instead, he went right to smacking Kou's ass with his bare hand and Kou grit his teeth and clenched his ass cheeks.

It didn't take long for Takashi to hiss and pull his hand back, waving it in the air to ease the sting he was feeling, if Kou's ass was any barometer.

"You need to pace yourself," Yasuo said, shoving Takashi to the side to take his place. True to his words, his hits were steadier, though there wasn't much force behind them. Kou tried to make an appropriate amount of noise to keep them satisfied, but Takashi snorted.

"His ass is barely pink. Move." Takashi took his turn once more, striking Kou with hard and steady spanks while Kou yelped for real. It took a good three minutes before Takashi stopped to rest his hand once more and Yasuo took his place, matching Takashi for firmness of his spanks.

In time, there was no variation between the two. It was a constant deluge of hard, evenly paced spanks, only the brief break as they changed over providing and respite. By the time they were done—complaining that their hands had become numb, that being the likely only reason and not the man's even request that they ease up—Kou's ass was hot and tingling with pins and needles. Even the slightest movement made the stinging worse. So he just kept his head close to the floor as the man and his cousins exchanged final words and left Kou in the room with his pants still down and his ass in the air.

It wasn't until one of the servants offered an ice compact that Kou got up to run out of the Ichijo manor. He got to the base of the hill and a few blocks toward Daisuke's house before he stopped. He had left his phone at the house and the car repair shop was closed. He could try ringing the doorbell, but that would mean the risk of seeing anyone but Daisuke.

Sitting down on the curb and then immediately regretting that decision but too tired to try to move, Kou looked up at the sky. He closed his eyes, and as the owls began to hoot, he stood back up and took his first few steps up the hill toward the Ichijo manor.


End file.
